Food, mostly. More curry, since you like it so much.
[There's some more things, too, that he mulls over for a brief moment. Just a second or two, and then he decides, fuck it.
For a second, he stops dead where they walk. Then, small, webbed hands fist their way into Adrian's collar to yank him down closer to Rosso's level. With zero hesitation and absolutely no impulse control on his part, Rosso leans up to kiss Adrian's cheek, and then comically half-shoves him back and continues walking.]
And that, I guess, [if he channels Soren Ventus he'll surely make it out of this alive,] and maybe I'll let you have some of that nice wine I bought.
[
quick walk faster to avoid the fluster of what you just did catching up—]
[Curry, huh? Not a bad trade, Adrian thinks. He's already been promised a whole month's worth, so what's even more going to hurt?
He's about to ask what else Rosso can make- like those stews he likes so much, maybe they could even try to grill something since he can do that- when he's suddenly caught completely off guard when Rosso just. Stops.
He stops, and grabs Adrian by the collar of his jacket, and for a split second Adrian braces himself to be decked. Oh shit, did he say something actually wrong this time, because it sure flew right over his head if he did. He winces visibly as his eyes screw shut, because as a croc being punched in the nose fucking hurts and he assumes Rosso knows that.
But as he's dragged down a fraction, it isn't to be punched. Well. Unless you count a kiss as being punched with someone's lips, of course.
Then he's being pushed back, staggering slightly despite Rosso being so much smaller than him as the other Mer wheels around and makes to practically sprint away from him.
And that?
Midway through the word "wine", Rosso will be stopped by Adrian's hand snapping out to grab him by the wrist, effectively stopping him from running away unless Rosso jerks himself free.]
[The urge to yank himself free and run off is certainly there, but he doesn't. He tells himself it's because he doesn't want Adrian's claws somehow tearing through the fins flexing on his forearm, even though they're nowhere close to that at all. Obviously if he yanks his arm away somehow Adrian's claws will go up, that's how it works.
His other excuse is just that it would be stupid to run ahead when he needs to steal Adrian's coat eventually at some point.]
...yeah?
[Said in the dumbest voice. Like oh yeah I didn't do anything what's up, kinda voice.]
[For what it's worth, if Rosso had pulled away, Adrian would have let him go. No sense in trying to force him someplace he doesn't want to be, even if it would be leaving him with far more questions than answers. And yet again, he's thankful for the form he's in (for once) in that it makes him impossible to read as he lets Rosso's wrist go, freeing him up entirely so that they're standing on the sidewalk facing each other.
For once, Adrian doesn't crouch to meet Rosso's level. He stands there and looks down at him instead, a steady stream of cold mist leaving his nostrils every time he takes a breath.]
...any reason you keep doin' that when I can't do it back?
Forgive Rosso for looking briefly stunned by that — he's not entirely sure what to say. He blinks, stupidly, once, twice, and then his gaze briefly darts off elsewhere. Just long enough to glance at the nearest Thing that he might focus on to ground himself and hopefully get rid of that gross, floating feeling. The Thing in question is a parked car with snow accumulating slowly on top of it, where someone has drawn a smiley face into the frost.
Seems real enough. Alright, so this isn't a dream. Great.]
I didn't say you couldn't do it back, you idiot.
[Yeah. That's... close enough. It's probably too much to say anything else.]
[Adrian rolls his eyes, shrugging one shoulder as he looks down at Rosso like he's blind or something. Not that Rosso is even looking at him right now, paying much more attention to a nearby car than the Mer standing right in front of him.
Fine, he'll prove it. Seems like he has to, since Rosso's one braincell is too gay to formulate thoughts.
...by tilting his head down and sort of. Nudging the end of his snout against Rosso's cheek. It's not a kiss, because, well.]
I literally can't, fish for brains. I ain't got lips.
[But he'll continue, before Rosso gets all flustered and starts yelling like he expects.]
You coulda' picked, like, literally any other time...and maybe it wouldn't've been so one-sided.
[Oh boy it's time to panic! If Adrian thought he wasn't going to start yelling, he has another thing coming; Rosso may have been calm for the entire night so far but that's over now. We're done with calm. Time to move on to shrieking!]
What are you fucking talking about—?!
[One-sided? Is this two-sided?? Did he hear that right, has he finally lost it, is he dreaming? He has to be dreaming, there's no way this is real— absolutely no fucking way.]
It's— [time to spiral out of control!] It's not like you fucking did anything about it when we were on my couch! We— I— fuck you.
[Wait no—]
You'd better not be fucking with me, I swear to Elria, I'll fucking murder you in your sleep if you are!
im sorry this is probably meant to be encouraging, or something, but adrian is stupid-
[There's the yelling, though Adrian does kindof wish it were in a less blatantly public area. They are still right in the middle of the street, in the middle of the damn walkway having this moment, and humans and monsters alike are sortof having to awkwardly either walk around them or go across the street to get past. But maybe it doesn't matter, because Rosso would have screamed at him if they were here, or in the restaurant, or in the apartment, and now he's just bracing himself for the worst. Because if he's fucking wrong here, that's it. Another person hates him, another friendship destroyed.
To that end, he actually flinches like Rosso reeled back and hit him at that particularly poisonous "fuck you", because he doesn't know what it means in the moment. It sure sounds loaded, and it makes him feel like he swallowed rocks.
His lip curls and he starts to growl, like a chainsaw revving up, even when it seems (maybe) like his concerns were unfounded, at least for the moment.]
You think I'd fuck with you about this? Think I'd waste that much of my god damn time? I didn't have to come here. I never had to do any of the stuff I did with you.
[They're...using their words, but badly, still. Kindof still awkwardly dancing around what they both actually mean, using hypotheticals and vauge allusions to something, but...
Adrian exhales more steam from his nostrils, like a dragon breathing smoke.]
I don't do anythin' halfway, you know that. Back on your couch, you-
[...]
I don't know. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what it meant.
[Was scared by it.]
But it ain't like you- [Now it's back to Rosso, who is getting a claw jabbed into his chest.] -haven't been pussyfootin' around, makin' me wonder what the fuck you're doing ever!!
I've been pussyfootin' around?! I've been flirting with you for months!
[Two of them, to be precise! And Rosso, ordinarily, would not be so forward, but— but desperate times call for desperate measures, which apparently means shrieking about it in the streets.
They have a reputation for being public nuisances, honestly, but this is too much.]
You're the idiot who stuck that flower into my hair in Felfri, you're the one who got this necklace for me, [you know, the one he hasn't taken off since,] you're the one who's pussyfooting around!
[are they
are they arguing about their feelings for each other]
Okay maybe Adrian finally did start getting the memo after a while here, but m o n t h s? Hello? That does not seem possible. There's no way. Surely he'd have known, this is Rosso for god's sake. Rosso, who is generally very obvious about pretty much everything he does, and...
Welp. It's time to question where the hell his brain has been for the last while, though maybe it wass preoccupied by eating his one of his best friends, then Rosso dying, then him also dying.]
I-
[He starts to protest, or retort, or something, but the words die on his tongue. Okay...that...
Hm.
You ever seen a crocodile fluster? Well now you have as his jaws snap shut, and he just sort of stands there, staring at Rosso unblinking.
[Meanwhile, Rosso, who cannot stop panicking for three seconds here... Is just going to continue yelling, actually! This is fine, surely the people avoiding them right now will simply continue to avoid them.]
Do you think I'd just offer to braid flowers into any idiot's hair?
[Back then, it had been more of a light ping of interest up until that flower wound up in his hair and Rosso's heart practically leapt out of his chest. The rest, as they say, is history — he's not sure when it got this bad, but it sure as hell got this bad.]
Do you think I just deliver homemade food to the entire peninsula? [Rosso you work at a bar.] Do you think I cry over everyone's deaths, like I did for yours?
Do you think everyone gets called jagi?
[Might wanna... explain that one, instead of just listing off reasons Adrian might be passingly oblivious.]
Adrian can feel a cold sweat break out on the back of his neck, because he's been throwing that back at Rosso not knowing what the fuck it meant. He just thought it was some kind of Elrian insult but all of a sudden he is not so sure.
The rest of what he said? Yeah, all of that is...yeah. Maybe Adrian had his idiot blinders on for that one.
But jagi?]
...it'd help a hell of a lot if I knew what it meant.
[Right, cool, exactly what he was afraid he would say.
He's been calling Rosso babe, unknowingly, for weeks, and Rosso didn't say a damn thing or STOP HIM. Probably because it would have meant outing himself for having started the trend, but still.
Adrian...fumes, for a better word, for a few seconds in silence, though it's not an angry sort of fuming. It's more like if he could make expressions easier, his face would be all scrunched up and he would be struggling not to look constipated probably.
Then, after what probably feels like forever to Rosso, Adrian snaps out of whatever he was thinking so hard about and grabs for his hand.]
A'ight, this is stupid. C'mon.
[Rosso gets no say in the matter. He's being tugged along, dragged if need be, behind Adrian as he starts to make his way down the street again, pulling Rosso with him by the hand. Not towards Merain at all, but in the complete opposite direction towards the opposite outskirts of Bavan.]
[He has no choice but to follow, but he sure as hell isn't gonna do it quietly.]
And just where the fuck are we going?!
[Rosso tries to tug his hand loose in a half-assed sort of way, which inevitably fails because, again, he's half-assing it; it'd be nice to know where he's being yanked to, though! He has to jog for a moment to catch up to Adrian's pace, glowering at their intertwined hands as they go.]
[Cause they aren't going back to Merain tonight, apparently. Even if, you know. It would be in their best interests to do so, as merfolk who absolutely need water. Adrian's brain isn't firing on all cylinders right now though, so he isn't thinking about that as he pulls Rosso with a single minded effort to get back "home", which means taking him all the way back to Lager Woods, to his shitty dumb treehouse that isn't really a house at all, but to him it's more home than any apartment ever has or will be.
Well, if they start getting too dry they can probably eat snow, right? Surely they'll be fine until the morning, at least...because Adrian doesn't seem like he's going to stop until Rosso demands it or refuses to keep going. his tail occasionally lashing behind him as he stomps like Godzilla down the street, parting humans like the red sea before him.]
[Because this is totally the wrong direction for Rosso's apartment to be in, actually — it's a little more west. Regardless, he really doesn't have a choice but to follow along. They can just... Lay in snow and chug water bottles, he supposes. That's fine, that'll keep them hydrated.
No more questions. He figures he'll ask why they're going back to Lager once they actually get there, because the screaming isn't getting them anywhere right now. The Rosso of six months ago would Not have come to that conclusion and probably would've kept shrieking... your ears are welcome, people of Bavan.]
[Adrian doesn't deign to answer, this time. He just keeps going, because like...Rosso is going to see for himself that yes, they're heading to the woods. It's not really the best place for Rosso to be in as a neutral party to the god conflict, but there's a reason Adrian chose a place not directly within the fog patches, but surrounded by them instead. Once you push through it, people generally don't want to venture in to bother you. That's what he likes about living there.
So! No more talking (or yelling) until they're out of the city, probably to the relief of everyone around them who didn't know what was going on and also didn't want to get between two monsters clearly fighting. It's a little less stressful for Adrian at least when they leave the city behind, trudging now through the snow just the two of them as they eventually enter the woods, with its massive tall trees currently bare of leaves overlooking them as he makes the trip back to his home.
Home, at least, Rosso has seen by now a couple of times, though maybe he hasn't ever stayed here before exactly. Not long enough to consider it a proper visit, not when his apartment exists and has like...proper heating. But Adrian cannot be deterred as he marches on towards the particularly large tree housing his home, thankfully relenting in his aggressive stomping as they make their way up the stairs to the treehouse proper.
And, well. Here they are. It's small even by the standards of a "house". but the inside is clearly hand built with very particular attention to how it was meant to turn out in the end. The tree itself grows directly up through the center of what is ostensibly the living room, with a futon pushed into one corner to act as a bed, a tv plopped across from it (where on EARTH is the electricity to power it, is it battery operated?), a rug here, a table built into the wall there, a bunch of windows in odd places because he's not an architect...with the far side being meant as the kitchen, with even more shelves and cabinets built into that side of the wall. There is a weird set of stairs sort of awkwardly built into the tree trunk that leads up to a loft up above, and if Rosso thinks about it for more than a second it's clearly meant for a cat. A cat who can climb effortlessly basically wherever he wants.
So, yeah. It's not much. Really at all, honestly. But it's home, and Adrian built it (mostly) with his own two hands.
And now he's standing there with Rosso in it, not entirely sure what to do now that he's dragged him all the way here. He kindof burnt out some of that pent up energy on the way, leaving him floundering a bit for a thread before he just...sinks down to sit on the floor.
[For what it's worth, Rosso does like Adrian's little treehouse — he told Adrian once upon a time that when he was a Tiny Baby Rosso that he'd wanted one because it sounded cool. It... Was also outside, where he wasn't allowed to go back then, but still. The point stands. He's always just come over for a couple hours and headed home — no point in staying over, really, and the Gods know he would've flustered himself stupid if he ever tried.
So why are they here, then? And—]
Why the fuck are you pouting on the floor?
[Rosso's certainly not about to sink (literally) to that level, and so he stomps his way inside, but not before politely taking his shoes off at the door. They're all snowy, he wouldn't want to ruin the wood somehow.
There he goes setting out across the treehouse, still dressed up all pretty, still with his hair up even if the wind and Adrian's headpat earlier had fucked it up a little. He looks like he just came back from a red carpet modelling job, honestly. Just nice enough for a boujee sushi place and overly-dressed enough for a treehouse.]
You wanna talk about this, since you dragged me all the way here, or what? Why are we here, Adrian?
[Why indeed. Look, he's maybe starting to become a bit emotionally exhausted here, because he always feels everything very much and very intensely but this has been a lot even for him. It's why he just sort of slumped to the floor instead of standing up like a normal person, but at least he's large enough that it's not really that much of a change. He looks back at Rosso with his eyes still a bit glazed over from trying to process the last few minutes, and he swears his ears are still ringing from their combined yelling.]
I was gettin' tired of doin' that where everybody could see, okay?
[Rosso has to at least understand that much. Normally Adrian wouldn't care, but...in matters like these, he's a private person.
Of course, he has to ask himself: in matters like what?
His eyes fall half closed as he sits there on his knees, his arms loose in his lap.]
[He won't say "lost my temper" because, well, it's obvious he did. He always does — he can't People correctly so it all just comes out as vicious anger instead of what he wants it to be. That, and he's too defensive to let people in; surely if he yells enough they'll realise he's bad news and go?
Of course, if he really meant that, he wouldn't be here. And he certainly wouldn't be striding over to Adrian with his arms folded over his chest, only to uncross them and run his hand back through his hair and sigh.
He might bump their shoulders together or something, ordinarily. Or sit down next to him. Or do anything else. But here... he just stands. Not sure if he should sit down or reach out or what.]
[Well. If Adrian has learned anything about whatever all of this is, it's that Rosso has been doing a lot of the heavy lifting here, which...isn't fair, even if it means Adrian is just really dumb sometimes. It's shameful in a way, he thinks, but maybe it was always destined to be that way. So blinded by the careful steps he's taking to make sure he doesn't fuck up that he can't see what's right in front of him.
So when Rosso just stands in front of him, Adrian takes it upon himself to reach up and grab Rosso by the wrist, dragging him down to sit with him. They're on a rug at least, so it's not the bare wood floor, as Adrian tugs Rosso down. Insistent, but not forcing either. And if he doesn't try to pull away this time...
Then Adrian will keep going, pulling Rosso up and into his lap. He settles him in the space created by his crossed legs, small enough as he is that he fits there weirdly well, before letting his arms shift to wrap loosely around him now that he's there. Then, Adrian drops his head gently against Rosso's shoulder, placing his jaws along the side of the Mer's head so that Rosso can still see Adrian, kindof, even though he's literally been dragged into his lap at this point.
He wraps his big tail around them before he finally goes still, letting out a long sigh that would sound scary if Rosso didn't know him.]
...m'sorry I'm such an idiot.
[Adrian mutters, his claws curling into the pads of his feet.]
And that I don't know...how to say shit right. Or do it right.
[...]
I just...don't wanna lose you, Ainen. I didn't wanna...do, or say somethin' that would drive you away. As insane as you make me, I meant what I said when I told you I wouldn't know what to do without you.
[No protesting here, other than a squeak as he's pulled into Adrian's lap — but that's probably to be expected. It's the most undignified sound he's ever made in his life. Probably.
Maybe other than screaming confessions in the middle of the street, because, oof. Regardless, though, he makes himself comfortable. Settling against Adrian is easy enough once the initial shock and fluster dies down, and then here he is. Just...
Just here. Settling his scarred hands on Adrian's big tail and absentmindedly tracing scales with a gentle fingertip.]
What, you think I'm just going away after all that?
[Probably... Not quite what Adrian meant. There's a million, billion, open-ended meanings he can draw from those words alone.]
Honestly... [and then he sighs, heavily and loudly, as he normally does.] This whole thing was meant to be a date, but I couldn't fucking muster the courage to ask properly. I figured it was fine, 'cause it isn't as though friends don't just go out to eat sometimes. Figured I could try again later. Thought I was in over my head with you.
[His eye flicks away from the vaguely-blurry shape of Adrian's face for a second, landing on his tail, before moving back.]
I'm a dangerous idiot. Always have been. At some point, all Fire Masters are supposed to burn out — our fire is literally supposed to kill us. But here, since I don't have it anymore, and since I don't have to worry about stupid shit like dying... Dunno. I guess I thought I could try to be normal, since I wouldn't be able to— to accidentally kill you. Or myself, for that matter.
You're my favourite idiot. Since I get to be "normal" now, I'm not goin' anywhere. Okay?
[A date. So he wasn't just overthinking things, then. The way Rosso was dressed, the overly fancy venue, offering to pay for him...it was all deliberate, then.
He feels himself bristle inwardly, a similar sort of floaty feeling to what Rosso experienced earlier briefly overtaking him as Rosso traces the scales along his tail and explains himself.
In over his head? With him? As if Adrian isn't the biggest loser on the planet, there's no way Rosso could ever think he's NOT in his league...but it seems they've both been thinking the same thing, haven't they. Just in reverse.
Rosso talks of being dangerous, of being meant to burn out and die due to his own fire. Of the chance to be "normal". And Adrian...huffs something of a laugh, closing his eyes for a moment.]
Look at us. We ain't normal. We'll never be normal. We're both fire-based, loud, angry dumbasses who don't know how to do nothin' but scream and cause shit and then wonder what it was all for, really.
[But...Adrian moves his arms a little more securely around Rosso, actually holding him against his chest for a moment.]
...but we could try.
[He rumbles, and though he feels incredibly stupid for doing it, he tilts his head a bit and just sort of presses it to the side of Rosso's face for a moment, lingering until he can feel his skin warm his scales.]
I'd...I'm. I mean.
[Fuck]
I wanna...try to be normal with you. If you'll let me.
[Is "normal", or some semblance of it, even attainable here? In a place where the Gods are at war, where people transform into monsters at the whims of whoever feels like fucking them up that day, where the slightest things can set off a full-scale war or madness? The answer is no, they can't, they'll never be, they were never going to be that privileged. Two people who lost everything over and over again, getting to live like actual human beings? Absolutely not.
Here they are anyway, though. Rosso's pretending he knows how to have emotions, that he knows how to even have a relationship of which the foundation isn't "oh yeah we're coworkers" — like a real, honest-to-Elria relationship, with flowers and dates and unexpected cheek-kisses involved. He... does not. But that's what pretending is for.
Something in the way Adrian presses his his head against Rosso's is extremely endearing, though. And if "normal" isn't attainable, maybe "right" is. Maybe they can just have something that feels correct.]
Please. You think I'm gonna reject you after all this?
[For fuck's sake.]
Of course we can try to be — pretend to be normal, [he corrects,] together. Like two lovestruck idiots in one of those movie-things.
It's not like I've ever done this shit before. I've got no idea what I'm doing here. Just... If I could spend time with anyone like this, it'd be you. It's always been you.
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[There's some more things, too, that he mulls over for a brief moment. Just a second or two, and then he decides, fuck it.
For a second, he stops dead where they walk. Then, small, webbed hands fist their way into Adrian's collar to yank him down closer to Rosso's level. With zero hesitation and absolutely no impulse control on his part, Rosso leans up to kiss Adrian's cheek, and then comically half-shoves him back and continues walking.]
And that, I guess, [if he channels Soren Ventus he'll surely make it out of this alive,] and maybe I'll let you have some of that nice wine I bought.
[
quick walk faster to avoid the fluster of what you just did catching up—]
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He's about to ask what else Rosso can make- like those stews he likes so much, maybe they could even try to grill something since he can do that- when he's suddenly caught completely off guard when Rosso just. Stops.
He stops, and grabs Adrian by the collar of his jacket, and for a split second Adrian braces himself to be decked. Oh shit, did he say something actually wrong this time, because it sure flew right over his head if he did. He winces visibly as his eyes screw shut, because as a croc being punched in the nose fucking hurts and he assumes Rosso knows that.
But as he's dragged down a fraction, it isn't to be punched. Well. Unless you count a kiss as being punched with someone's lips, of course.
Then he's being pushed back, staggering slightly despite Rosso being so much smaller than him as the other Mer wheels around and makes to practically sprint away from him.
And that?
Midway through the word "wine", Rosso will be stopped by Adrian's hand snapping out to grab him by the wrist, effectively stopping him from running away unless Rosso jerks himself free.]
Hold up. Get back here.
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His other excuse is just that it would be stupid to run ahead when he needs to steal Adrian's coat eventually at some point.]
...yeah?
[Said in the dumbest voice. Like oh yeah I didn't do anything what's up, kinda voice.]
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For once, Adrian doesn't crouch to meet Rosso's level. He stands there and looks down at him instead, a steady stream of cold mist leaving his nostrils every time he takes a breath.]
...any reason you keep doin' that when I can't do it back?
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Forgive Rosso for looking briefly stunned by that — he's not entirely sure what to say. He blinks, stupidly, once, twice, and then his gaze briefly darts off elsewhere. Just long enough to glance at the nearest Thing that he might focus on to ground himself and hopefully get rid of that gross, floating feeling. The Thing in question is a parked car with snow accumulating slowly on top of it, where someone has drawn a smiley face into the frost.
Seems real enough. Alright, so this isn't a dream. Great.]
I didn't say you couldn't do it back, you idiot.
[Yeah. That's... close enough. It's probably too much to say anything else.]
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[Adrian rolls his eyes, shrugging one shoulder as he looks down at Rosso like he's blind or something. Not that Rosso is even looking at him right now, paying much more attention to a nearby car than the Mer standing right in front of him.
Fine, he'll prove it. Seems like he has to, since Rosso's one braincell is too gay to formulate thoughts.
...by tilting his head down and sort of. Nudging the end of his snout against Rosso's cheek. It's not a kiss, because, well.]
I literally can't, fish for brains. I ain't got lips.
[But he'll continue, before Rosso gets all flustered and starts yelling like he expects.]
You coulda' picked, like, literally any other time...and maybe it wouldn't've been so one-sided.
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What are you fucking talking about—?!
[One-sided? Is this two-sided?? Did he hear that right, has he finally lost it, is he dreaming? He has to be dreaming, there's no way this is real— absolutely no fucking way.]
It's— [time to spiral out of control!] It's not like you fucking did anything about it when we were on my couch! We— I— fuck you.
[Wait no—]
You'd better not be fucking with me, I swear to Elria, I'll fucking murder you in your sleep if you are!
im sorry this is probably meant to be encouraging, or something, but adrian is stupid-
To that end, he actually flinches like Rosso reeled back and hit him at that particularly poisonous "fuck you", because he doesn't know what it means in the moment. It sure sounds loaded, and it makes him feel like he swallowed rocks.
His lip curls and he starts to growl, like a chainsaw revving up, even when it seems (maybe) like his concerns were unfounded, at least for the moment.]
You think I'd fuck with you about this? Think I'd waste that much of my god damn time? I didn't have to come here. I never had to do any of the stuff I did with you.
[They're...using their words, but badly, still. Kindof still awkwardly dancing around what they both actually mean, using hypotheticals and vauge allusions to something, but...
Adrian exhales more steam from his nostrils, like a dragon breathing smoke.]
I don't do anythin' halfway, you know that. Back on your couch, you-
[...]
I don't know. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what it meant.
[Was scared by it.]
But it ain't like you- [Now it's back to Rosso, who is getting a claw jabbed into his chest.] -haven't been pussyfootin' around, makin' me wonder what the fuck you're doing ever!!
Rosso's not encouraged but he sure is gay
[Two of them, to be precise! And Rosso, ordinarily, would not be so forward, but— but desperate times call for desperate measures, which apparently means shrieking about it in the streets.
They have a reputation for being public nuisances, honestly, but this is too much.]
You're the idiot who stuck that flower into my hair in Felfri, you're the one who got this necklace for me, [you know, the one he hasn't taken off since,] you're the one who's pussyfooting around!
[are they
are they arguing about their feelings for each other]
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[What the fuck?
What the fuck Rosso?
Okay maybe Adrian finally did start getting the memo after a while here, but m o n t h s? Hello? That does not seem possible. There's no way. Surely he'd have known, this is Rosso for god's sake. Rosso, who is generally very obvious about pretty much everything he does, and...
Welp. It's time to question where the hell his brain has been for the last while, though maybe it wass preoccupied by eating his one of his best friends, then Rosso dying, then him also dying.]
I-
[He starts to protest, or retort, or something, but the words die on his tongue. Okay...that...
Hm.
You ever seen a crocodile fluster? Well now you have as his jaws snap shut, and he just sort of stands there, staring at Rosso unblinking.
This is going well.]
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Do you think I'd just offer to braid flowers into any idiot's hair?
[Back then, it had been more of a light ping of interest up until that flower wound up in his hair and Rosso's heart practically leapt out of his chest. The rest, as they say, is history — he's not sure when it got this bad, but it sure as hell got this bad.]
Do you think I just deliver homemade food to the entire peninsula? [Rosso you work at a bar.] Do you think I cry over everyone's deaths, like I did for yours?
Do you think everyone gets called jagi?
[Might wanna... explain that one, instead of just listing off reasons Adrian might be passingly oblivious.]
no subject
Rosso
Rosso what does
what does jagi
Rosso
Adrian can feel a cold sweat break out on the back of his neck, because he's been throwing that back at Rosso not knowing what the fuck it meant. He just thought it was some kind of Elrian insult but all of a sudden he is not so sure.
The rest of what he said? Yeah, all of that is...yeah. Maybe Adrian had his idiot blinders on for that one.
But jagi?]
...it'd help a hell of a lot if I knew what it meant.
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It's an Elrian word — the closest approximation is probably "babe".
[
so anyway—]
It was an accident the first time I called you it out loud!! [out loud.] It just became habit after that!
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He's been calling Rosso babe, unknowingly, for weeks, and Rosso didn't say a damn thing or STOP HIM. Probably because it would have meant outing himself for having started the trend, but still.
Adrian...fumes, for a better word, for a few seconds in silence, though it's not an angry sort of fuming. It's more like if he could make expressions easier, his face would be all scrunched up and he would be struggling not to look constipated probably.
Then, after what probably feels like forever to Rosso, Adrian snaps out of whatever he was thinking so hard about and grabs for his hand.]
A'ight, this is stupid. C'mon.
[Rosso gets no say in the matter. He's being tugged along, dragged if need be, behind Adrian as he starts to make his way down the street again, pulling Rosso with him by the hand. Not towards Merain at all, but in the complete opposite direction towards the opposite outskirts of Bavan.]
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And just where the fuck are we going?!
[Rosso tries to tug his hand loose in a half-assed sort of way, which inevitably fails because, again, he's half-assing it; it'd be nice to know where he's being yanked to, though! He has to jog for a moment to catch up to Adrian's pace, glowering at their intertwined hands as they go.]
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[Cause they aren't going back to Merain tonight, apparently. Even if, you know. It would be in their best interests to do so, as merfolk who absolutely need water. Adrian's brain isn't firing on all cylinders right now though, so he isn't thinking about that as he pulls Rosso with a single minded effort to get back "home", which means taking him all the way back to Lager Woods, to his shitty dumb treehouse that isn't really a house at all, but to him it's more home than any apartment ever has or will be.
Well, if they start getting too dry they can probably eat snow, right? Surely they'll be fine until the morning, at least...because Adrian doesn't seem like he's going to stop until Rosso demands it or refuses to keep going. his tail occasionally lashing behind him as he stomps like Godzilla down the street, parting humans like the red sea before him.]
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Home?!]
Yours, I'm assuming, and not mine?
[Because this is totally the wrong direction for Rosso's apartment to be in, actually — it's a little more west. Regardless, he really doesn't have a choice but to follow along. They can just... Lay in snow and chug water bottles, he supposes. That's fine, that'll keep them hydrated.
No more questions. He figures he'll ask why they're going back to Lager once they actually get there, because the screaming isn't getting them anywhere right now. The Rosso of six months ago would Not have come to that conclusion and probably would've kept shrieking... your ears are welcome, people of Bavan.]
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So! No more talking (or yelling) until they're out of the city, probably to the relief of everyone around them who didn't know what was going on and also didn't want to get between two monsters clearly fighting. It's a little less stressful for Adrian at least when they leave the city behind, trudging now through the snow just the two of them as they eventually enter the woods, with its massive tall trees currently bare of leaves overlooking them as he makes the trip back to his home.
Home, at least, Rosso has seen by now a couple of times, though maybe he hasn't ever stayed here before exactly. Not long enough to consider it a proper visit, not when his apartment exists and has like...proper heating. But Adrian cannot be deterred as he marches on towards the particularly large tree housing his home, thankfully relenting in his aggressive stomping as they make their way up the stairs to the treehouse proper.
And, well. Here they are. It's small even by the standards of a "house". but the inside is clearly hand built with very particular attention to how it was meant to turn out in the end. The tree itself grows directly up through the center of what is ostensibly the living room, with a futon pushed into one corner to act as a bed, a tv plopped across from it (where on EARTH is the electricity to power it, is it battery operated?), a rug here, a table built into the wall there, a bunch of windows in odd places because he's not an architect...with the far side being meant as the kitchen, with even more shelves and cabinets built into that side of the wall. There is a weird set of stairs sort of awkwardly built into the tree trunk that leads up to a loft up above, and if Rosso thinks about it for more than a second it's clearly meant for a cat. A cat who can climb effortlessly basically wherever he wants.
So, yeah. It's not much. Really at all, honestly. But it's home, and Adrian built it (mostly) with his own two hands.
And now he's standing there with Rosso in it, not entirely sure what to do now that he's dragged him all the way here. He kindof burnt out some of that pent up energy on the way, leaving him floundering a bit for a thread before he just...sinks down to sit on the floor.
Yeah.]
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So why are they here, then? And—]
Why the fuck are you pouting on the floor?
[Rosso's certainly not about to sink (literally) to that level, and so he stomps his way inside, but not before politely taking his shoes off at the door. They're all snowy, he wouldn't want to ruin the wood somehow.
There he goes setting out across the treehouse, still dressed up all pretty, still with his hair up even if the wind and Adrian's headpat earlier had fucked it up a little. He looks like he just came back from a red carpet modelling job, honestly. Just nice enough for a boujee sushi place and overly-dressed enough for a treehouse.]
You wanna talk about this, since you dragged me all the way here, or what? Why are we here, Adrian?
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I was gettin' tired of doin' that where everybody could see, okay?
[Rosso has to at least understand that much. Normally Adrian wouldn't care, but...in matters like these, he's a private person.
Of course, he has to ask himself: in matters like what?
His eyes fall half closed as he sits there on his knees, his arms loose in his lap.]
C'mere.
[Please.]
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[He won't say "lost my temper" because, well, it's obvious he did. He always does — he can't People correctly so it all just comes out as vicious anger instead of what he wants it to be. That, and he's too defensive to let people in; surely if he yells enough they'll realise he's bad news and go?
Of course, if he really meant that, he wouldn't be here. And he certainly wouldn't be striding over to Adrian with his arms folded over his chest, only to uncross them and run his hand back through his hair and sigh.
He might bump their shoulders together or something, ordinarily. Or sit down next to him. Or do anything else. But here... he just stands. Not sure if he should sit down or reach out or what.]
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So when Rosso just stands in front of him, Adrian takes it upon himself to reach up and grab Rosso by the wrist, dragging him down to sit with him. They're on a rug at least, so it's not the bare wood floor, as Adrian tugs Rosso down. Insistent, but not forcing either. And if he doesn't try to pull away this time...
Then Adrian will keep going, pulling Rosso up and into his lap. He settles him in the space created by his crossed legs, small enough as he is that he fits there weirdly well, before letting his arms shift to wrap loosely around him now that he's there. Then, Adrian drops his head gently against Rosso's shoulder, placing his jaws along the side of the Mer's head so that Rosso can still see Adrian, kindof, even though he's literally been dragged into his lap at this point.
He wraps his big tail around them before he finally goes still, letting out a long sigh that would sound scary if Rosso didn't know him.]
...m'sorry I'm such an idiot.
[Adrian mutters, his claws curling into the pads of his feet.]
And that I don't know...how to say shit right. Or do it right.
[...]
I just...don't wanna lose you, Ainen. I didn't wanna...do, or say somethin' that would drive you away. As insane as you make me, I meant what I said when I told you I wouldn't know what to do without you.
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Maybe other than screaming confessions in the middle of the street, because, oof. Regardless, though, he makes himself comfortable. Settling against Adrian is easy enough once the initial shock and fluster dies down, and then here he is. Just...
Just here. Settling his scarred hands on Adrian's big tail and absentmindedly tracing scales with a gentle fingertip.]
What, you think I'm just going away after all that?
[Probably... Not quite what Adrian meant. There's a million, billion, open-ended meanings he can draw from those words alone.]
Honestly... [and then he sighs, heavily and loudly, as he normally does.] This whole thing was meant to be a date, but I couldn't fucking muster the courage to ask properly. I figured it was fine, 'cause it isn't as though friends don't just go out to eat sometimes. Figured I could try again later. Thought I was in over my head with you.
[His eye flicks away from the vaguely-blurry shape of Adrian's face for a second, landing on his tail, before moving back.]
I'm a dangerous idiot. Always have been. At some point, all Fire Masters are supposed to burn out — our fire is literally supposed to kill us. But here, since I don't have it anymore, and since I don't have to worry about stupid shit like dying... Dunno. I guess I thought I could try to be normal, since I wouldn't be able to— to accidentally kill you. Or myself, for that matter.
You're my favourite idiot. Since I get to be "normal" now, I'm not goin' anywhere. Okay?
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He feels himself bristle inwardly, a similar sort of floaty feeling to what Rosso experienced earlier briefly overtaking him as Rosso traces the scales along his tail and explains himself.
In over his head? With him? As if Adrian isn't the biggest loser on the planet, there's no way Rosso could ever think he's NOT in his league...but it seems they've both been thinking the same thing, haven't they. Just in reverse.
Rosso talks of being dangerous, of being meant to burn out and die due to his own fire. Of the chance to be "normal". And Adrian...huffs something of a laugh, closing his eyes for a moment.]
Look at us. We ain't normal. We'll never be normal. We're both fire-based, loud, angry dumbasses who don't know how to do nothin' but scream and cause shit and then wonder what it was all for, really.
[But...Adrian moves his arms a little more securely around Rosso, actually holding him against his chest for a moment.]
...but we could try.
[He rumbles, and though he feels incredibly stupid for doing it, he tilts his head a bit and just sort of presses it to the side of Rosso's face for a moment, lingering until he can feel his skin warm his scales.]
I'd...I'm. I mean.
[Fuck]
I wanna...try to be normal with you. If you'll let me.
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Here they are anyway, though. Rosso's pretending he knows how to have emotions, that he knows how to even have a relationship of which the foundation isn't "oh yeah we're coworkers" — like a real, honest-to-Elria relationship, with flowers and dates and unexpected cheek-kisses involved. He... does not. But that's what pretending is for.
Something in the way Adrian presses his his head against Rosso's is extremely endearing, though. And if "normal" isn't attainable, maybe "right" is. Maybe they can just have something that feels correct.]
Please. You think I'm gonna reject you after all this?
[For fuck's sake.]
Of course we can try to be — pretend to be normal, [he corrects,] together. Like two lovestruck idiots in one of those movie-things.
It's not like I've ever done this shit before. I've got no idea what I'm doing here. Just... If I could spend time with anyone like this, it'd be you. It's always been you.
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